


Paper Planes

by Dimirti



Category: overwatch
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 19:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18372932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dimirti/pseuds/Dimirti
Summary: Hanzo takes up his brother's offer to join Overwatch, but upon arrival, hostilities and personal feelings lead him to be more of a recluse. Genji asks McCree to speak with him at the very least, and upon agreeing, meets Hanzo and finds more to the man than the cold exterior he puts out. He befriends Hanzo through chance meetings and unusual circumstances, though tragedy may cut budding feelings before they have a chance to bloom.





	Paper Planes

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone began wondering why my fics stopped for a time, this is why. I am honored to be able to participate in the McHanzo Big Bang this year.
> 
> I'm so glad the time has come to put this out there. I got to work with wonderful artists and it feels surreal for it to be over. Thank you all so much for such a wonderful event and being so understanding when things got rough!

Coming back to base had been the highlight of McCree's week. He felt sore in muscles he used to be sure Mercy made up to get him to rest more. Two months on a mission was, in his opinion, one month and twenty-nine days too long, especially when Genji had sent him a message on the second day of having some big news best to tell him in person. 

McCree walked off the transport rolling his shoulder with a groan. A few days without the strain of his combat prosthetic would be a small slice of heaven. He greeted the sight of Genji waiting at the base of the ramp with a tip of his head and began to roll ideas through his head of what the news could be.

New techniques?

New weapons?

He finally talked Torbjorn into engineering the custom pair of motorcycles they'd tried no less than 47 times to talk him into?

"My brother has come to join Overwatch."

Or that.

"Your brother? The one you describe as a stubborn enough to put a mule to shame with a giant stick--?"

Genji waves his hands rapidly to halt McCree's words. 

"Hanzo, yes. That brother."

McCree straightens his stance, his thumbs tucking into his belt as he shifts the cigar between his teeth from one side to the other.

"....ya sure?"

It was impossible to see Genji rolling his eyes, but he was positive Genji did just that. He laughed a bit at the light punch Genji gave him.

"I am positive I only have one brother, McCree."

McCree rolled his neck, rubbing the back to work out the muscles.

"Well, if you don't mind, I want to get a proper shower and some less...." He looked down at himself, knocking on his armor. "...hard clothes." He starts heading back to his room, but pauses when he's aware of Genji on his heels. "Can I help you?" He questions with a laugh.

"I was hoping you could...meet him. He doesn't exactly..." Genji makes a motion with his hands. "....fit in here."

McCree raises a brow before starting back toward his room.

"Alright. I'll give it a shot. Can't promise you anything, but everyone deserves a chance, yeah?"  
~~  
He felt odd without his hat, but he'd compromised with the belt and boots. Jeans and a flannel shirt rounded out a rather subdued look, for _him_ anyway. Genji had warned that his full garb would be off putting, but he wasn't going to compromise his entire aesthetic for meeting his brother.

The training room wasn't locked, though he figured that was due to Genji already being in the observation zone setting up a way for him to get inside. He stopped next to his friend, tucking his thumb in his belt as he watched arrows fly and take out training bots at a rapid pace. He heard Genji's robotic huff of a laugh next to him.

"Glad you could join us. I was about to send a search party. Afraid you got lost looking for the bathroom."

McCree rolled his eyes, but his smile was there.

"Don't sass me. They stuck me in the devil's asshole with no shower for four days. The dirt was like a second skin."

"...gross."

The laugh they shared was lighthearted, and it definitely lifted McCree's post-mission mood. He let his gaze fall onto the archer felling the bots. He swallowed at the tight-fitting tank top he wore and his pants were only loose enough to not be considered _tight_. He could still see thick, built thighs. The pants seem to be tucked into complicated looking footwear, though, if he considered the more casual look the man carried elsewhere, McCree was willing to bet they were prosthetics rather than an odd choice of footwear. There was a story there.

The score was called above, snapping McCree to attention enough to notice the man had stopped and was likely the one to question Athena for his count. McCree couldn't help but whistle at the impressive number.

"You'll be one to give me a run for my money, eh, archer?"

His voice seemed to startle said archer, not that he jumped, no. He was aiming his bow at McCree, glaring in a way that made McCree raise his hands and swallow. His piercing eyes seemed cold to most, but McCree saw something behind them. Fear of attack. To Hanzo, for a moment, McCree was an assassin sent to kill him.

He lowered his arms as Hanzo lowered his bow and Genji cleared his throat. McCree shook his head, giving Hanzo his warmest smile as he held his arm out.

"Name's Jesse McCree. A pleasure to meet yo--"

He was silenced by Hanzo stepping into his space, holding an arrow toward McCree's throat. His glare was intense and burning.

"I am not here to make friends, cowboy. Stay out of my way and I will not have to hurt you."

McCree raised a brow, leaning his head up as he sucked against his teeth. The threat had no meat to it. It was a ploy to push people away. 

A defense mechanism?

Interesting.

".....is that so....?"

It would seem Hanzo stayed stoic to most, McCree had been keen all his life, trained even further for Blackwatch. He saw the moment Hanzo faltered, the minute change to his glare, how he didn't seem to understand someone not fearing the threat from such a skilled marksman.

Hanzo maintained his glare, scoffing as he put the arrow back in his quiver and started picking up his things. He threw his towel over his shoulder, walking past McCree. He paused a moment, his head turning a bit.

"Hanzo Shimada."

McCree didn't move, but he let out a small laugh.

"A pleasure to meet you, Shimada. Hope to see you around."

Hanzo seemed to look him over, before grunting and walking out.

McCree shifted his stance, crossing his arms to watch Hanzo leave the training room.

"There's hope for him after all."

McCree kept his eyes on Hanzo until he exited the training room, then he turned his head to see Genji looking at him. He couldn't see his expression, but he could just _imagine_ the self-righteous smirk he was wearing. Genji gave him a thumbs up with both hands, his voice bright as he speaks.

"That went great!"

McCree rubbed the back of his neck, huffing a nervous laugh before looking to the now closed doors.

"Are you sure? He seems rather....stiff."

Genji shrugged, coming forward to clap a hand on McCree's shoulder.

"You'll learn, in due time, that what you saw, my friend, is Hanzo's cheery side."

McCree gave him an incredulous look.

"He had an arrow to my throat."

Genji gave him a last pat to the back before walking out with a laugh.

"Yeah. Normally, he would have just killed you."

McCree laughed as he swallowed.

"Well, I ain't one to question luck."

***

The next week was uneventful, and McCree hadn't seen Hanzo at all. Contrary to what most thought, eluding the cowboy was just as hard as eluding Genji. There was an old Blackwatch joke that McCree wearing spurs was Reyes’ idea after being snuck up on one too many times. McCree still knew how to silence them, though. He'd even gone out of his way to find him to no avail. He shrugged it off with a sigh, and figured the man didn't want company and let it go.  
So finding Hanzo hunched over a cooling cup of tea at four am was expectedly shocking. He barely had time to appreciate it, given the reason he was even up himself was a nightmare of a past that refused to stop haunting him. Hanzo barely noticed his presence, and he was grateful for it. The man looked as though he'd lost _days_ of sleep, not simply a few hours. McCree was silent as he prepared his coffee, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. He'd fallen asleep with his prosthetic on and he knew he'd come to regret it in a few hours. He was too tired to register anything more than coffee.  
Another thought came to him as he eyed a couple ingredients left out in the kitchen. He glanced at Hanzo, who still seemed lost in a daze of his own thoughts. McCree took the cue to fire up the oven and put something quick together. He prepared his coffee before stacking the food in a small tower on a plate and moving to the table Hanzo was sitting at. 

He set the plate down gently, but the sound made Hanzo start, blinking the stupor from his eyes before looking to the plate.

"What....is this...?"

McCree smiled warmly, taking a piece of bread from the stack as he settled with a groan into the chair.

"...cinnamon sugar toast. An old childhood cure for bad nights."

Hanzo turned his nose up as he leaned back with his hands still wrapped around his tea.

"They look....sweet."

McCree laughed, speaking with a bite of food in his mouth.

"Well, yeah. One of the main ingredients is _sugar_."

Hanzo just stared at him, seeming to take a mild offense to the action.

"Disgusting."

McCree shrugged, taking another bite.

"Suit yourself."

Hanzo reached out, taking a piece from the pile with his eyes still on McCree.

"Not the food on the plate, the food you so callously show off when you speak with your mouth full."

McCree made a show of not only closing his mouth, but chewing slower. He swallowed with just as much flair and even showed his empty mouth.

"More to your satisfaction?"

Hanzo seemed to want to put on an air of being disgusted, but he only managed to just barely hide his smile by biting into the warm toast. He chewed a few times before closing his eyes and making a quiet hum of contentment. McCree took a sip of coffee as he watched Hanzo's mask fall away for just a moment.

"Help yourself. I made enough to share."

Hanzo lowered the toast, looking to it as he spoke quietly.

"You are not...going to ask me why I am here?"

The tone he carried seemed to have confusion in it, as though he'd heard the question enough times that not hearing it was the unusual outcome. McCree gave another shrug.

"The way I figure it, if you wanted it to be my business, you'd tell me. Nothing good ever gets a man out of bed at four am to stare at the peeling finish of a table."

Hanzo huffed a laugh, taking another bite.

"You are a strange one, McCree."

"I hear that a lot."

Hanzo and McCree fell into a comfortable silence after that, eating the toast while it was warm and slowly sipping their drinks. After nearly twenty minutes, the silence was broken by Hanzo's quiet words.

"....thank you."

Well, _that_ definitely wasn't expected. McCree sat up straighter, giving Hanzo an incredulous look.

"....what for?"

Hanzo gripped his tea mug, looking into what was left of the contents.

"I can take it back if you wish not to accept it."

McCree brought his hands up defensively, offering an amused laugh.

"Nah. I'm okay. Just took me by surprise. I just figured you could use it. Sometimes just not bein' alone is good enough, so...there ya go."

Hanzo hummed lightly, but McCree could tell by the tone, he was happy. He didn't seem like much of a smiler anyway. He made a mental note to appreciate any and all of them he could get.  
~~

Hanzo continued to prove elusive, but McCree caught him looking haunted a few more nights. They shared quiet evenings when nightmares kept them both awake. They were few and far, but McCree was just glad Hanzo didn't have to spend every harsh night alone. He'd been on the bad end alone far too many times than most would be proud of.

He'd found himself on a supply run a few weeks after their first early morning encounter. He was prepared to go alone, but Genji had volunteered his brother with an enthusiasm that seemed to make Hanzo contemplate his choice to come to Overwatch. Genji had, however, made quite a few good points, mainly Hanzo hadn't left base since his arrival. Getting out would do him some good, though Hanzo seemed against the idea, but crossed his arms and silently agreed regardless. McCree laughed a bit, knowing full well he was too proud to refuse a request from Genji.

The request list this round had been far longer than he'd expected, and he'd decided against the more frivolous ones. He found himself looking over the list after nearly an hour out, walking slow as he glanced over what was needed, and what was simply whims of the moment.

"I dunno about you, but I find that 'pink, bubblegum scented notebooks' might not be..."

He looked back to find that he'd lost his companion, though Hanzo was only a few steps back, crouched a bit as he stared, fixated, into a window. McCree expected to catch up to him and find him fawning over new weapons, or perhaps window shopping for tea as Genji spun tales of his 'obsession' for. 

The puppies had been unexpected. Hanzo looked fondly as they wagged their tails, leaping over each other to press their paws to the glass and lick at the face they didn't seem to understand they couldn't reach. McCree couldn't help but smile. Hanzo liked puppies. That was a scene he wanted to lock away. Hanzo saw his reflection in the glass, meeting the eyes of McCree's reflection and glaring.

"Am I not allowed to admire animals?"

McCree shook his head and turned to walk down a few more shops. 

"I didn't say anything."

Hanzo jogged a bit to catch up.

"I never said you did. You had a look."

McCree laughed again.

" _That_ look."

McCree shrugged. "Hanzo Shimada and puppies. It wasn't expected, but it was nice to see."

Hanzo huffed and turned his eyes ahead. He glared to the sidewalk, but looked more like he was scolded than actually angry. They walked in silence until McCree stopped before a store, hand on handle as he turned to Hanzo.

"We need to pick up a few..."

He saw Hanzo frozen a few steps away. His eyes were clenched shut and his grip on the lamp post was tight enough to leave his knuckles white. McCree could hear rough breathing through Hanzo's nose as he got closer. He was in pain. It had to be great pain for Hanzo's mask to falter. He got close, his hand up as if to grip Hanzo's shoulder, but not touching.

"Hey, Shimada. Talk to me. What's hurtin'?"

Hanzo opened his eyes, looked like he was about to protest but his eyes flicked to McCree's metal arm and he used his free hand to grip at his right thigh.

"....my leg...."

McCree glanced to it. This confirmed it. Prosthetics. He knew phantom pains far too well.

"Okay if I touch ya?"

Hanzo seemed confused by the question, surprised that McCree had asked, before nodding. McCree took Hanzo's free arm, wrapping it around his shoulder to allow Hanzo to put his weight onto him. He pulled him to a sparse alley, clean but free from people, and coaxed him to sit.

McCree pulled out his comm, pressing a button before Hanzo put his hand over it, lowering it a bit.

"No. Do not....call."

McCree raised a brow.

"...we should get help out here. You're not gettin' home like this."

Hanzo shakes his head, his grip still strong on the comm.

"Genji...Genji does not know. I do not wish him to, not yet."

McCree looked to Hanzo, opening his mouth to ask a question before letting out a long sigh.

"Okay. Fine. It's your business."

Hanzo's hand fell free and McCree tucked the comm away.

"Alright, let me see if I can at least get ya on your feet."

He set the bags down before moving a hand to Hanzo's thigh, hovering his hand over it as he looked to Hanzo.

"I promise this is only to help, no funny business."

Hanzo nodded, his head leaning back against the wall as his hands clenched into tight fists to his side.

McCree knew just where touch, applying pressure at key points to relieve the pain momentarily as he used his other hand to probe around Hanzo's prosthetic knee.

"I need to get this off to help you. Can I?"

Hanzo tensed, there was a long moment of hesitation before he gave another faint nod.

"Very well."

McCree wasn't familiar with it at all, but having years of experience gave him enough knowledge to release it. He rolled up Hanzo's pant leg, gingerly removing the limb and setting it aside. The fingers of his free hand started to gently massage the stump. 

"Hanzo, I need you to watch. We're going to try to trick your brain."

He asked Hanzo to trust him before altering their positions.He shifted, stretching his own leg out. Hanzo wanted to protest, too unfamiliar with the man to be pressed against his back like this, but pain makes fools of men. McCree kept his hands on the ground. The position was clearly for the sake of giving Hanzo the illusion of having a flesh leg.

"Hands on your thighs, now breathe. Deep and calm. Watch my feet."

He began to move his foot.

"Imagine you moving your foot like that. Feel it the best you can. Flex your calf, bend your knee. That's it. Keep focused."

Hanzo grit his teeth, the motions seeming to make it worse, but feeling the muscles flex beneath his hands, and watching McCree's foot move like it was his own was easing it just as fast.

Hanzo’s head fell back to McCree’s shoulder, forgetting for the moment, it was a shoulder. Discovering his headrest was quite a bit softer than a wall, he lifted it once more. He almost bolted to his feet, but realized that one still sat to McCree’s right.

“Genji is not to know about this….incident.”

McCree raised his hands in mock defense.

“I promise. Not a word.”

Hanzo nodded in acknowledgement, moving to put the prosthetic back on as the pain faded.

“Or the puppies.”

McCree stretched as he stood, bending his back a bit to crack it.

“Okay, I draw the line at puppies. A man’s gotta know his brother likes puppies.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes, but he smiled, standing carefully. He bounced a bit, shifting his weight to the foot to make sure the pain was actually gone.

“We should continue if we are to be back in a timely manner. If we take too long, people will talk.”

McCree smirked, picking up the bags.

“Let ‘em talk.”

Hanzo turned on him, revealing his stern mask was back in place. Unapproachable.

“I do not _want_ them to talk. I would rather the rumors about us not revolve around the romantic.”

McCree shrugged, stepping out of the alley.

“Suit yourself. I hear I’m quite a catch, but it’s your loss.”

 

They fell back to a comfortable silence, but McCree felt an odd feeling in his stomach, a distant melancholic feeling, but it was small enough to ignore. Hanzo broke the silence near their next target, stopping McCree with a hand on his arm.

“Genji also….does not know about my legs. I would rather tell him when I feel it is the right time.”

McCree raised a brow, as if questioning why Genji had yet to know but nodded all the same.

“That’s your business. He’s perceptive, though. He probably already knows.”

Hanzo made a face, almost like he was wanting to wince, but resisting it with force.

“I am aware, but I prefer to live in my denial that perhaps I can carry secrets from him.”

McCree appreciated the joke, letting out a sincere huff of a laugh before opening the door to the shop.

“Wallow in denial, then. Shall we?”

~~

The rest of the trip out and coming back proved otherwise uneventful. Hanzo was quick to disappear when they came back, barely caught rounding the corner back to the dorms as McCree moved to put the shopping away. He found Genji near the fridge, pretending to search for something. McCree wouldn’t have been suspicious had he not caught the cyborg stretching his neck around the doorway when they’d walked through the door. He decided to play along, setting bags on the counter and starting to put things away.

“Unless you’re the new fridge, I suggest you get out of the way or help stock it.”

Genji apologized, taking the cold items from his hands.

“Is Hanzo not coming?”

McCree shrugged as he stretched to put the coffees and teas into one of the higher cabinets.

“I doubt it. He bolted the moment the door closed on our heels. He probably would’ve stayed if a certain green ninja hadn’t made it obvious he was sitting around waiting for us.”

Genji groaned, his head falling back as he ran a hand down his face. McCree found the gesture looking more awkward as Genji hadn’t bothered to remove his faceplate.

 

“If you caught me, he definitely did.”

McCree laughed low, tossing him a few more items for the fridge.

“He’s avoiding us all, don’t take it personal.”

Genji sighed, leaning back out of the fridge, his face turning toward McCree.

“I was hoping Hanzo coming here would help him open up, but he seems more closed off than ever.”

McCree turned to lean up against the counter, his ankles crossing as he crossed his arms.

“He’s just overwhelmed by the place, I guess. A lot of strangers that know of him through you, judging the guy before he can even offer a hello. I’m surprised he’s still around.”

Genji slowly closed the fridge, hopping up to sit on the counter across from McCree.

“It’s not like I asked them to judge him.”

McCree fixed him with a serious look.

“But you also never asked them not to.”

Genji’s head moved in a way that conveyed he wanted to say more before he stopped. He reached up, removing the faceplate and setting it to the side. His expression showed signs of concern and remorse at the realization of what McCree pointed out.

“I did not.”

McCree looked to his own feet, sucking on his teeth a moment before speaking again.

“They know what he did in his past, how it left you, but it also leaves Hanzo in a position where strangers give him cold looks and won’t let him forget it. I’m not saying he should, but there’s pain in that man. No man at ease with killing kin leaves the lap of luxury to live as an assassin for a decade.”

He looked up, met Genji’s eyes with a purpose, but his tone was gentle, not intending to be harsh. Genji rubbed his hands along his thighs before bracing them on the counter as he leaned back.

“I am proud of him for trying, but he hides. He won’t open up to me and it’s frustrating.”

McCree shrugged.

“He’s spent a decade avoiding you. It’ll take more than a few weeks for him to come to you for help with his pillow forts.”

Genji snorted. “Pillow forts?”

McCree scoffed, throwing his hands up. “Whatever you did as kids, I don’t know. I never had brothers. I only have old movies and shit for reference.”

Genji laughed fully. “Even when we were boys, there were no… _pillow forts_. The closest we got to bonding was sparring and swords.”

The gaze McCree set him with made Genji straighten, like McCree was trying to find the lie. “What…?”

McCree shook his head, turning to start putting the supplies away once more. “Sounds like a fun and wholesome childhood.”

Genji brought his hands together, holding them in front of his lips as he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. It was enough to make McCree turn and look over his shoulder. It was another moment before Genji opened his eyes and pointed his hands toward McCree. “I think the many times I mentioned ‘my family was yakuza’ seems to have more or less leaked from your brain.”

McCree rolled his eyes and turned back to what he was doing. “Excuse me for not knowing the inner workings of an organized crime syndicate.”

It was Genji’s turn to raise his brow. “Says a former member of the Deadlock--”

McCree turned, pointing a finger at Genji as he glared. “I said _organized_ crime. Deadlock liked dynamite and plastering ‘look how badass we are’ all over the place.” He wasn’t actually angry, but he wasn’t fond of his past. It’s one of the likely reasons he gets along so well with the archer.

Genji held his hands up in mock surrender, pulling back. “My apologies.” 

Silence fell between them once more, a few minutes passing before McCree spoke up.

“Give him his space, let him come to you. I’m sure it’ll work out.”

Genji watched McCree’s back intently, listening to the hint of fondness in his tone. 

“....Jesse…?” 

“Mm?”

“Do you… _like_ Hanzo?”

McCree tensed, turning fast as if Genji had aimed to slap him, but there was a flush to his cheeks.

“What makes you say that…?”

Genji shrugged. “The way you talk about him, it’s in your tone. Sounds like you’re fond of him.”

McCree seems to think about his answer before slowly replying. “Of course I am. I’m fond of all my friends.”

Genji’s eyebrows raised at the term, but he shakes his head. “No, I mean...more than that. Like do you have a crush on him?”

“What?”

Genji narrowed his eyes, speaking slower as if to a child. “Do you. Have a crush. On my brother?”

McCree opened his mouth, a protest ready on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped himself, shrugging as he turns back to finish putting things away.

“I suppose I can’t deny a hint of one.”

Genji took a breath through his nose. “Don’t get too attached to the feeling.”

McCree tensed, a sense of dread starting to form like a lead weight in his gut. “...why?”

Genji hopped off the counter, moving to fetch a drink from the fridge. 

“From what I know of Hanzo, and I literally spent all of my childhood growing up with him, he doesn’t like men like that.”

McCree swallowed, tried to calm the hurt he shouldn’t feel. He sighs, slowly closing the cabinet.

“I suppose it’s time to nip it in the bud, then, hm? Just friends.”

Genji shuts the fridge, taking a drink. “I just don’t want you getting hurt by something that neither of you have control over. He lacks tact. He wouldn’t let you down easy.”

McCree just nodded, starting to head from the kitchen.”Thanks for the head’s up. I’m just gonna turn in. Long day and all that.”

Genji nods, walking with him just long enough to seperate in the hall. Genji headed toward the communal living area as McCree headed to bed.

He walked slow, heading down the dorm hall, running a hand through his hair, sighing as he reached his own room. He typed in the code, not even having to so much as glance at the keypad. As the door closed behind him, he leaned against the wall nearby, sliding down and leaning his head back against it. He closed his eyes and rest his arms on his knees. He hadn’t even realized he was even _starting_ to fall for the archer until Genji had said something. He had a moment to realize both that he was developing feelings for him, and that they were pointless.

He let out a slow breath, his head falling to hang.

“Just friends, then.”

And now he was talking to himself.

“How am I supposed to handle myself now?” He groaned, running a hand over his own face. “I’m hopeless. Just gotta check myself, I guess.”

He stood, kicking off his boots, leaving them haphazard by the door. He walked toward his bed, stripping himself of his shirt and tossing it in what he assumed was the general direction of his makeshift hamper, a small laundry basket that was usually consumed by a pile of clothes, cleanliness usually questionable.

He fell onto the mattress, causing it and his body to bounce. He reached up to pull his pillow the few inches rather than move to lay correctly on his bed. He wasn’t really feeling like moving anyway.

“This is gonna be a nightmare. Hanzo Shimada and his stupid, sexy self….”

~~

McCree hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but when he woke, he regretted both his position and the fact that he hadn’t removed his arm. His stump was sore and complaining and his feet, that had spent the night hanging off the bed, felt stiff and swollen, despite not being so.

He shambled into the kitchen, looking half like a zombie and the other half ready to strike at anyone that dared to so much as mention his hair looking like he got caught in a hurricane. He’d opted to take off his arm, and while there was relief, it still throbbed. He headed straight for the coffee and hadn’t even noticed another was present, nor that it was barely dawn. 

“Would you like me to beat up the storm that kicked your ass last night?”

McCree groaned and was about to go off before he realized who the voice belonged to...and found himself mildly smitten by the mild laugh the tone carried.

“....make sure you add a couple kicks in for yourself. Can’t let him think you did it all for my lil’ ol’ self.”

McCree began pouring a mug of coffee and almost spilled it onto the counter upon hearing a short, but genuine, laugh come from Hanzo. 

Shit. He wasn’t going to make it. He was falling.

“You know...I’m sure that when Hanzo Shimada laughs, someone, somewhere, thinks about kicking a puppy.”

Hanzo gasped, though it sounded sarcastic when he spoke.

“Do not speak such blasphemous words. How dare you.”

McCree just laughed, exhaustion still clinging to him, as he moved to sit in front of Hanzo.

“You’re right. I’m a terrible person.”

Hanzo hummed lightly, bringing the cup of tea he held to his lips.

“Not _that_ terrible.”

McCree shrugged, taking a big drink of his coffee.

“A man is welcome to his opinion.”

There it was. Another short, genuine laugh.

Yep. Definitely doomed.

“I suppose he does.”

Hanzo turned his attention back to the tablet he was scrolling through, a warm cup of tea in his free hand. Now that he could get a good look at him, McCree noticed Hanzo didn’t look much better than him. He supposed he was getting more comfortable in their meetings, given that Hanzo had taken to let his hair down, showing up to the kitchen in sweats and an old t-shirt that looked more like Genji’s style than Hanzo’s. 

McCree took a seat slowly, his eyes on Hanzo, definitely not imagining running his fingers through that hair. Hanzo glanced up and McCree averted his gaze quickly, clearing his throat as he took a drink from his own mug.

“Is something wrong, cowboy?” There was a definite smirk in Hanzo’s tone as he spoke.

McCree shook his head.

“Not particularly.” Definitely not with Hanzo. “It’s just nice to see you less as Shimada Hanzo and more just….Hanzo.”

He glanced up to see Hanzo looking surprised, eyes wide, and just a hint of pink. He looked abruptly down, seeming to take a relatively keen interest in his tablet, hiding his face behind his mug.

“Mm. I suppose I have decent inspiration to…what was it you said? ‘Pull the stick out of my ass’?”

He smirked as McCree choked on a drink of coffee. McCree turned his head, laughing quietly.

“You got me there.”

The morning fell into a comfortable silence between them, and McCree had to face that he was less falling for the man and more plummeting with no hope of return. 

~~

The dust that swirled around McCree was blinding. He could barely see a few inches in front of his face. He had the distinct feeling of dust in his throat but he couldn’t cough. It reminded him of the desert but he hadn’t been there since Reyes pulled him into Blackwatch.

He brought a hand to his face, starting to walk through the swirling sand. His feet felt like lead and he made very little progress. An odd laugh echoed around him. Distorted, but familiar. The sand darkened, swirling into a dark mist, black and suffocating. It began to pull back, take a shape, humanoid right before his eyes. 

Reyes stood before him, fire in his eyes and an expression that would frighten lesser men. It wasn’t the Reyes he knew that took him in, this was the Reyes at the end, twisted by years of being thrown under the bus by an organization that needed a scapegoat for their own misconduct. Reyes shifted, twisted into a darker, more intimidating shape.

The Reaper. 

Talon’s top agent.

He’d known who the Reaper was the moment he saw the way he fought on the feed when he’d come back for the recall. It had rocked him to the core and not just once had he wished he’d had someone to help brace him for that fallout. He watched the Reaper raise a gun, pointed to his forehead. He could only stare as his feet wouldn’t move.

“Did you miss me?”

Reaper laughed, then McCree heard the click of the trigger and hard fire of the gun. He tensed, bracing himself.

He bolted up in his bed, the scream dying in his throat. He was sweating and his heart was beating fast.

He needed water. He couldn’t breathe. He stood, stumbling a bit down the hall, using muscle memory to get him to the kitchen. He made his way to the sink, didn’t notice the other in the room, watching him with worried eyes.

He needed a glass, but his hand was shaking. He couldn’t grip it very well, his throat felt tighter. His chest _hurt_. He was vaguely aware of the sound of glass shattering as his legs gave out. There was a calm voice nearby, familiar and enough to give him a bit of focus.

“McCree, are you with me? Can I touch you?”

McCree had a hand to his chest, gripping his shirt tight, but he managed a quick nod.

Hanzo’s hand came to his back, another to his shoulder, guiding him carefully away from the glass. He pulled him close, making sure his cheek was against his chest. It was an intimate position, but he understood what Hanzo was doing. He could feel the man’s steady breathing against his face.

He gently pulled McCree’s hand into his own, and began a light, rhythmic squeezing.

“Squeeze with me. Like this. Count to four as you breathe in, then four as you let it out.”

Hanzo’s other arm was around his shoulders, making sure McCree didn’t have to hold himself there. McCree followed Hanzo’s words, did as asked. His body slowly relaxed and his eyes closed. Hanzo stayed quiet after that, and he was grateful for it. His breathing slowed and his chest stopped burning. 

At some point, he heard glass being swept up, but the quiet tones in Japanese told him it was just Genji. He didn’t realize he’d tensed up until he was relaxing back against Hanzo. Hanzo squeezed his shoulder gently, letting him know he was okay. Genji cleaned quietly, and spoke low as he left.

“I’ll keep the others out until things settle.”

Hanzo nodded, and McCree let that speak for the both of them. He felt exhausted, drained by his emotions and Hanzo made no effort to dislodge him. The way he shifted to be a bit more comfortable told McCree he had no plans to. Their hands parted as McCree relaxed, but Hanzo rubbed the back of his knuckles lightly along McCree’s spine. It was an odd gesture, but it was relaxing, leaving him fully limp and dozing on the archer.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he was roused gently.

“Can you stand?”

He nodded, slurring his words with a grimace. “With help I can manage….”

Hanzo let him take his time, but guided him to his feet and walking him over to their small table. It wasn’t exactly claimed or labeled, but they’d taken to always sitting there and the others always left it open for them. He got McCree into a chair.

“I will return in a moment.”

McCree grunted an acknowledgement, and Hanzo left knowing it was the best he was going to get to an affirmation.

He was true to his word, returning shortly with a cup of tea he set by McCree’s elbow.

“I know you are not a fan of tea, but this will ease you. It will help you sleep.”

McCree turned his nose up in feigned disgust, but the soft laugh from Hanzo made him smile before he was drinking down the offered tea. It was mild with a hint of mint, sweetened with honey. He wasn’t a fan, but he couldn’t deny Hanzo knew his way around tea.

“Thank you, darlin’. “

Hanzo cocked a brow. “..darlin’ ? “ His attempt to mimic McCree’s accent was a bit silly with his own. 

McCree flushed, hiding as best he could behind the mug. “A slip of the tongue, I guess. I’ll stop.”

Hanzo laughed more fully, raising a hand in defense. “No, I do not mind it from you. It is….sweet, I suppose.”

McCree nearly spat out his tea.

“....sweet? Are you being _nice_ , Hanzo Shimada?”

Hanzo shrugged, his smirk plain.

“Tell anyone you want. No one will believe you.”

McCree laughed at the words and the smile he got from Hanzo was softer, more fond than amused. It was odd, made him want to ask a few things. Genji’s words of Hanzo’s preferences had him keep his lips tight and swallow as he continued to drink on the warm tea.

He was told not to get too attached, but he was already beyond redemption. Hanzo unknowingly had a hold on him and he was going to suffer through it, if it meant he got to spend time with him.

“But yeah...thanks. I...uh...I’m usually alone and they get...much worse.”

Hanzo nodded.

“I did not do more than I believe you would have. I am used to being alone, but I am positive I do not wish to suffer alone anymore.”

The slight confession spoke of a deep trust Hanzo had, to confide in him something that made him so vulnerable. McCree took note of it and locked it away. Maybe they couldn’t be together as he wanted, but he sure as hell was going to be the best friend Hanzo deserved.

~~

It was only a matter of time before they were put on a covert mission together. He, Genji, and Hanzo were all skilled in infiltration without so much as a footstep. McCree even had the terrifying talent of being able to walk in a manner that silenced his spurs. Hanzo seemed thoroughly impressed after expressing worry about his gear on such a sensitive mission.

The criteria was simple enough. Get in, get the files, get out. Talon wasn’t protecting this base as thoroughly, which led to a conclusion they were gearing up for something big. The database had plenty of guards, but taking them out was child’s play to Genji. He was taking out targets before the previous ones had fallen to the floor. Hanzo was on high ground, watching from the shadows of the rafters and maintenance catwalks. McCree’s job was to get the data, and be a last resort should the covert aspect of the mission fail. Ana was their medical liaison, but that meant she had to stay with Lena on the dropship.

There was very little to do to access the files. Barely encrypted and the passwords were a joke. It gave McCree pause and he stepped back. There was a rather gruff voice coming through his comm in barely a whisper.

“Get it and get out, McCree. They will not wait long for reinforcements.” Hanzo was irritated and he swore he felt his eyes boring into his soul.

He huffed. He didn’t have time for this. “It’s too easy. This is an ambush.”

No other words were spoken, but he noticed Genji tense. He was focused, scanning the dark with more vision than even Hanzo could be granted. It was almost perfect timing, as it only took a few seconds for an alarm to blare and soldiers that were hidden in non-descript crates and corners began to flood them. 

There were three consecutive curses before they were forced to fire. Genji was cutting them down just as fast as they could come at him, but McCree and Hanzo were limited on ammo. He could judge by the way arrows were raining on the enemies, he would run out sooner than Talon would run out of bodies. 

McCree was quick on the comm, even as he fired.

“It was a trap. Intel was manipulated to lure us in. They were waiting.”

There was a pause and a firm, but unsurprisingly calm, response from Ana’s end.

“We’re on our way to your location. Clear a path to the back wall if you can manage and we’ll get you all out.”

Hanzo was already making his way, and McCree knew he was timing it. He was barely firing, but the enemy was having a hard time tracking him. Genji didn’t seem worried and simply called for McCree to run. They were close, but the enemy was closing in. McCree was low on bullets. He glanced at Hanzo, who he could tell had a mostly empty quiver, and Genji could only do so much. He set his stance, pulling down the brim of his hat before he focused. He could almost see time slow as he focused on the Talon agents running at them. He could hear a distant call before he was pulling the trigger. He heard Peacekeeper fire too many times to keep track of, with far more dead than he knew he had bullets for. He had taken down so many, but more were closing in. 

He cursed, the headache rising in the aftermath of Deadeye. It made him stumble, still only standing by Genji’s quick reflexes. He heard ringing and could barely see. He did feel it, though. The bullets piercing limbs, a shoulder, grazing his neck. He could swear he heard a Hanzo’s voice, panicked and calling his name. His vision cleared enough to see the archer land in front, and after muffled words, bright blue sprung forth. He could taste the ozone and the electricity made his limbs tingle. He’d never been this close to Hanzo’s dragons and found himself momentarily distracted by the curious wonder if Hanzo felt this more intensely.

His senses came to him all at once, and there was a fist twisted in his serape and jerking him to his feet.

“That was idiotic and reckless!” Hanzo sounded angry, even had the furrow in his brow, but there was panic in his eyes, roaming McCree’s body for potential mortal wounds. He tucked his bow over his shoulder before he was pulling the silk ribbon from his hair, moving to tie it firmly around McCree’s thigh so he could walk without bleeding to death.

“We need to move quickly. When you heal, I will injure you myself.”

He stood up, giving McCree one final look. It was soft, almost loving, and it was gone as soon as it had shown, but it left him confused. Enough that he didn’t see one final push from Talon. A bulky soldier with a more hefty version of Reaper’s guns. 

He called out the same time as Genji, and Hanzo only had time to turn before the soldier pulled the trigger. It was rare to find the elder Shimada so distracted, and McCree found himself in that split second folding the blame on himself.

The world seemed to slow. He watched Hanzo lurch back, felt him hit with force that almost knocked them both down. There was another shot, managing to hit Hanzo’s arm. He heard Genji’s cry, watched him summon his own dragon in a flash of green and lunge at the enemy.

McCree caught Hanzo firmly, his own injuries forgotten as he carefully lowered Hanzo to the ground. 

“....Hanzo?”

The archer’s breaths were strained and shallow. His eyes wide, staring up at McCree. His arm was too much of a bloody mess for him to take stock of the damage, but he was focused on how Hanzo’s good arm was reaching up to him. There were tears in his eyes, and whether for fear or pain or panic, McCree didn’t know, but he looked absolutely terrified. He took the hand Hanzo was lifting in his own, squeezing it firmly to give Hanzo a focus. The archer attempted speaking, tried to find his voice, but it was hoarse, wet with what McCree hoped beyond hope wasn’t blood.

“...Jesse….I….do not want….”

McCree caught on to how his name fell from those lips. He’d dreamed of hearing Hanzo call to him, cry out to him, but to hear him sound so weak and terrified…

“Hanzo, you won’t. You live, you hear me?”

Hanzo’s eyes were barely open, and he was struggling so hard to find air. McCree looked out the busted wall, finally getting on the comm.

“...Ana…”

The tone he carried made her own turn soft, motherly. Something was serious and the last thing he needed was a lecture on proper call protocol.

“...what’s wrong, Jesse?”

“Hanzo, he….we were distracted, I think he….” He swallowed. “He’s dyin’, Ana…”

There was no response, but McCree was relieved to see the dropship just outside the building. Ana practically leapt to his side, already cracking open a vial of her nano healing. It would only delay the inevitable, but McCree was happy to have such a delay. She barely had to look him over before she was rising. Lena was running in with the stretcher even as Ana spoke to McCree.

“...we will have to put him in cryostasis if we want any hope of him making it. He needs Angela.”

McCree nodded, helping get Hanzo onto the stretcher carefully. Ana tried to get him to let go, but he just shook his head and kept his grip on Hanzo’s hand.

“Until he’s iced, I’m not letting him be alone in this…”

There was a nod and nothing more was spoken. She walked ahead of them, setting up the emergency cryopod they had for moments like this. McCree was grateful they stood back as he lifted Hanzo. He’d expected the man to be much heavier, but he attributed most of it to adrenaline and a slurry of emotions that had him just wanting to tune out the world. He lay Hanzo in the pod, securing him. He glanced at Genji a moment, almost wincing, before he reached to unlatch and remove Hanzo’s prosthetics.

Visor still intact, most wouldn’t be able to tell if Genji was making an expression at all, but McCree knew with the slight tilting of his head that Genji had questions. He spoke low as he set the limbs next to the pod as Ana closed it.

“A long story that’s not mine to tell.”

Genji stood stark still a long moment before nodding and moving to take a seat near his brother. McCree just pressed a hand to the glass, watching it slowly cloud as the freezing aspect set to work. The silence hung heavy in the air and McCree almost jumped when Genji spoke, albeit very quietly.

“He will be okay. Angela will help him.” McCree wanted to hear the words, but as he stepped back to take a seat next to Genji, he realized the man was doubting, that he needed to say the words aloud to believe Hanzo would survive. “...he will be okay, he has to be.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking in the medbay had been rather shocking. McCree’s thoughts were fuzzy but he remembered the dropship, some muffled words to Genji, and then blackness. He must have been more injured than he thought. He shifted to sit up, groaning at the movement. He rubbed his eyes and then felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, pushing him back.

“Don’t move so much. Let me adjust the bed for you.”

Angela’s voice was warm, angelic. She certainly found her calling in her work. He opened his mouth to speak, but she seemed to read his mind.

“You’ve been out for two days. You didn’t tell Ana about your injury and nearly bled out. After you’re better, Ana wants a few words with you.”

McCree winced, but he blinked his vision clear and watched Angela pull the curtains beside his bed back as she spoke.

“You’re lucky you had the supplies on board to help you.”

His eyes caught the glimpse of the patient she started checking up on. Hanzo looked small and pale. Fragile. Wide bandages covered his chest and upper arm. He had one hell of a breathing apparatus, as calling it a mere tube would have been conservative. His heartbeat was unnervingly off. It was clear from the IV bags that he needed blood and Angela was keeping him sedated for his own sake. The bandages were pink, soaking through with blood and McCree felt a twinge in his chest, a pained beat of his heart. He swallowed.

“......is he….?”

Angela glanced up at him before going back to typing out on her tablet.

“He’s….hanging on. Cryostasis helped quite a bit. He would have died for sure from the blood loss alone.” She set the tablet on the bed, moving to change out the IV drips and check that everything was flowing right. “The fact that he’s alive even now? His arm alone is...shattered. He’ll have to endure a long rehabilitation to use it, much less fire his bow.”

McCree sucked in a sharp breath. He was running the risk of losing his friend. Had been the one that distracted him. He wished there was something he could do, to help. What was that story that Genji had shared with him when Gabe was out? A thousand cranes? 

“....hey, Ang?”

“Yes, Jesse?”

“....can you bring me some paper?”

~~

Genji had been dreading visiting his brother. He didn’t want to see him look anything less than the strong dragon of the Shimada clan he held himself as. He swallowed as he pulled open the door. The sight that greeted him was far from expected. Hanzo lay still, helped to breath with a device that looked more in place fueling an engine. It made him wince, but next to him, McCree was deep in concentration, surrounded by dozens of paper planes, focusing on folding another with only one hand. 

Genji lifted one, tilted it, admired how clean it was before he set it back down.

“Did I misspeak when I told you it was a thousand cranes?”

McCree chuckled, but something about it seemed hollow. He finished his current plane, and held it up to inspect his work.

“No, but I don’t know how to fold cranes. I figured Hanzo would appreciate me being myself, you know? A thousand paper planes feels more…...me.”

He gently tossed the plane toward Genji, which was caught with ease.

“You have a point. He….would enjoy this.”

Both of their moods fell at the silence punctuated by the beeping of Hanzo’s monitor.

“....he’ll make it, Genji..”

Genji nodded, taking a seat next to McCree’s bed. It was easier to face at the moment, than look at his brother still barely clinging to life in the next bed.

“You say that like you *know*. His arm was almost gone….it was close to his heart. Even Hanzo has a limit to what he can handle.”

Lips tight in thought, McCree watches him for a time before going back to folding. Thinking of watching Hanzo take the hit, how much blood there was, it takes him back all over again. Holding Hanzo, thinking he’s watching him die, that he still very much could. He folds harder.

“He’ll _make_ it, Genji.”

There was no arguing with his words. The finality to his tone spoke for itself. Genji didn’t quite looked convinced. His eyes were on Hanzo. McCree glanced over, and very quickly regretted it. The bandages covered almost his entire torso, his shattered bones carefully pieced together for hours by Angela. His arm was repaired, but it looked all wrong.

Tubes and wires sprouted from him like suffocating vines. He wanted to rip them off and hold Hanzo, let him die with dignity. He may keep saying the words, but he very well seemed to need the convincing that Hanzo would be okay. That he _would_ wake from this. 

McCree still hopes it was all a horrible nightmare. He’d wake up and be able to finally, formally confess his feelings, imminent rejection aside. He’d feel much better right now if he’d had just a bit of a chance of something more.

He huffed a breath through his nose and refocuses on folding. One after another, spilling onto the floor, more and more precise with the planes. He doesn’t even notice when Genji doses in the chair, not until Angela’s voice is snapping next to him.

“Jesse!”

He rubbed his eyes, blinking to clear away his fuzzy vision. The planes surrounded him, all over his bed and spilling onto the floor. Genji’s gone, but there’s planes in several boxes around the chair he was sitting in.

“Oh, good, you’re with me. Are you feeling alright?”

He nodded, if only because it was easier even to just lie to himself. He was tired and in pain. He leaned back against his pillows.

“I must have gotten carried away.”

She looked around, careful not to step on any.

“Yes, it would seem so.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face. He leaned his head back, looking to the ceiling, if only for a change of visual. It was a really boring ceiling.

“There’s no guarantees, Angie. He took such a hit and you can only do so much. Your _tech_ can only do so much.”

She sighed, picking up a few planes to toss into the box before sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked to her tablet, tapping at the screen and bringing up diagrams, portable monitoring of Hanzo’s vitals. She only did such things when there was a high risk of losing a patient.

“He’s slowly stabilizing. I can offer you that much.”

He nodded, closing his eyes.

“Thanks for that much. It’s small, but it’ll have to do for now.”

She lowered her tablet, patting his leg gently.

“Well, I know you’re healing well, so you’ll be out of here in a few days.”

McCree swallowed. He didn’t really want to leave, not with Hanzo hanging by a thread, but he knew he couldn’t stay with Angela here. She knew his tricks if he wanted a day or two more rest, and she’d kick him out every time.

“Of course, you will need to take it easy, if you wish to return to missions.”

There was a moment of silence where McCree licked his lips and swallowed. Did he want to return to missions? Did he want to leave while Hanzo fought for his life.

“Let me stay off the roster until Hanzo can at least talk. He’ll….he’ll need the support.” He draped his arm over his eyes. “He won’t be happy when he wakes up.”

Angela sighed, rising to her feet.

“No, he won’t, so I’ll keep you off as long as I can, but in return, you get to take the brunt of his inevitable anger.”

There’s a quick nod, all she was going to get out of McCree now.

“Rest, Jesse. You need it.”

~~

Days shifted to a week, to two, and McCree was healed enough to be discharged. He was given a cane, a limp in his left leg Angela had mentioned might be permanent, only physical therapy could tell.

He’d protested greatly. Hanzo was still out, no signs of waking at all. He had lost weight and his skin looked pale. He hobbled into the room a few days after his own discharge.

“Hey there, darlin’.”

Good thing Hanzo can’t hear him. He put a hand on Hanzo’s, thumb lightly rubbing the skin. Hanzo was healing, the bandages needed changing far less frequently and Angela had assured him he would be okay. Genji had more news, thankfully, to share with him. Hanzo was past the immediate risk of losing his fight, but Angela insisted on keeping him sedated until his injuries healed further. They all knew he’d wake, be angry, aggravate his wounds. The last thing they needed was him just making himself worse out of a sense of pride.

McCree moved to the seat set up for him, a small desk with paper. He was almost done with his thousand, boxes of them places around Hanzo, a few set up on tables and shelves. Genji had even hung some on the ceiling for Hanzo to see when he woke. He still poked at McCree for not being able to fold cranes, but admitted it was nice that he was doing something. 

“You should wake up soon. Your brother’s a nuisance when he’s worried. It’s really weird to watch.”

He began to fold, falling silent. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the sun was setting when he finally slowed. He stood to stretch, and his injuries protested. He took his cane, and began to walk over. He found himself frozen in place, staring at Hanzo.

Hanzo’s eyes were on him. Barely open, but they were obviously on him. He wasn’t sure what to do but his reaction brought him to Hanzo’s side, brushing hair back like they were something more than friends. The realization had him stopping.

“....easy, archer. You’re probably hurting something fierce, right?”

Hanzo gave a very stilted nod.

“Alright, one sec and I’ll get Angie.”

He pressed the call button on Hanzo’s bed. There was no answer, and McCree was about to go find her when he heard frantic footsteps enter the room. She looked practically spooked and it made him snort a laugh.

“I pressed it, but look…”

He gestured to Hanzo, who had his eyes on her, almost begging for something in and of themselves. She nodded.

“Pain. Right.”

She left the room, going to the stored supplies before coming back with a small IV line to attach to the on he already had. 

“This should kick in quick. You should feel barely anything, but in my experience, it also makes you..hm...not so much tired, as light-headed. Apparently, a pleasant feeling.”

Hanzo closed his eyes, a quiet thank you as he waited for it to kick in. McCree took a step back.

“There you go. I’ll just come back later.” He patted Hanzo’s uninjured arm, and swore he felt it flex as he pulled his hand away, like his hand was trying to grasp at him. “.....I promise I’ll be back. I still have sixty to go.” He pointed to the ceiling and Hanzo’s eyes followed. He definitely _seemed_ surprised and when he lowered his gaze to try to find McCree again, the cowboy was gone.

~~

The recovery was eventful, to say the least. The next few days had Hanzo in a daze, but when he got more mobile, he was adamant about refusing care. He claimed with a hoarse voice it made him feel helpless, despite assurances. Angela, for his own health, had to carefully sedate him and brace his chest. He was far more angry when he woke.

They had switched to plastic dishware for him, after the second glass got thrown at the wall. He wasn’t aiming at anyone, but Angela suspected he needed an outlet for his anger. He woke to having sharp pain and complete disuse of an entire arm. He didn’t have to be told he wouldn’t be able to shoot his bow again for a good while, if at all.

McCree did his best to show up, gave him his space when he felt he had overstayed. He always made sure he was healing okay, patient at every turn. Two months, though, can take their toll. He no longer needed a cane, but he did wear a brace to aid in walking. He came in, carrying Hanzo’s lunch tray, soft smile on his face.

“Hey, Hanzo. It’s time to get some meat on those bones.”

Hanzo huffed, turning his head to stare out the window. Well, _glare_ out the window. 

“I do not need to be treated like a helpless child. Set it down and leave.”

McCree clicked his tongue, limping to the table and setting the tray down.

“Don’t be like that, archer. You can’t heal right if you don’t get something to eat in you.”

Hanzo ignored him, flexing his hand on his good arm. Angela was working with him for his other arm, but it lacked motion, healing too stiff, leaving it bent at a moderate angle. Becoming aware of it always soured Hanzo’s mood. 

McCree sighed, pushing the table toward Hanzo’s bed, though was stopped when Hanzo’s hand swung out and grabbed it. McCree met furious eyes, and Hanzo took a few harsh breaths through his nose, shifting the cannula feeding him oxygen into healing lungs.

“Leave it. Go.”

McCree narrowed his eyes. 

“Let go, Hanzo. You need this.”

Hanzo grit his teeth, pushing at the table with an angry burst of energy, toppling the tray to the floor. McCree looked at him, taking a deep breath before holding his hands up.

“Fine. I tried. You want to be alone? You got it.”

Hanzo had never seen the cowboy angry, not like this. McCree was turned and out the door before he regained enough to stop him. He pressed his lips tightly together before giving a quick shove of the table. He’d finally have peace. _Good_.

~~

The realization of his stubborn actions didn’t set it until it registered that McCree wasn’t coming back. A few days passed and Angela quietly did her checks and left. No one tried to help him anymore, no one came, and those days drug into weeks. The solitude was starting to be too much. When no one was looking, he started working on Angela’s exercises on his own. His arm. Breathing, to help with his lungs. He’d been too adamant, to stubborn to show anything of the sort to Angela. He didn’t worry about being caught by others. They didn’t come anymore. A month of training, regaining more control in his arm, better breathing, led him to try to sit up. He desired to stand, start walking again.

He moved, a few inches, and pain shot through his chest, his ribs. He tried to cry out, but all he could manage was a pinched gasp. He managed to press the call button, hitting it frantically. Angela was quick to come, a hand on his back as she guided him to slowly lay back.

“You had your entire chest reconstructed. Two months is too soon to move in such a way.”

She adjusted his bed to sit up a bit more, laying him back as he took sharp, gasping breaths against the pain.

“Let me get you something for the pain.”

She started to leave, and felt a grip on her wrist, firm but not painful. She looked to Hanzo, seeing a rare moment of open emotion on his face, his pain too great for him to focus on his mask. 

“....please try...to get McCree….I miss….”

He took a particularly deep, steadying breath.

“I miss his planes….”

~~

It took some time to convince McCree to return. He felt strained with Hanzo, doing so much for so little gain. Angela finally convinced him it was Hanzo himself who asked for him, and it took far less convincing.

He showed up a few days later, lightly knocking on Hanzo’s bed railing. Hanzo opened his eyes and offered a faint smile that was returned.

“I was afraid I had scared you off for good.”

McCree shrugged.

“Nah. Just needed some space, right?”

Hanzo sighed, adjusting his bed to sit him up a bit more. He folded his hand into his lap, his other in a sling that Angela was using to help it bend more appropriately.

“I would agree if it were not purely me being….angry at my situation. You, of all people, understand, at least partially. And Genji…”

McCree held up a hand as he took the seat next to Hanzo’s bed and lay his cane across his lap.

“We’re not gonna go down that road right now. Let’s focus on getting you out of that bed first.”

Hanzo was grateful for the company, letting them fall into companionable conversation. For the first time since waking in the medbay, Hanzo relaxed, smiled even. McCree was happy he could get something more than a scowl out of the archer.

The next few weeks went as pleasantly, McCree guiding Hanzo, helping him get back on his feet, given the very, _very_ few he allowed to know he had prosthetic legs. He had Angela at his side helping guide them, but Hanzo was eager to leave and quick to regain enough strength in his legs to support himself. He begrudgingly accepted the cane to keep his balance, and was ready to be discharged.

McCree felt the shift in mood when Hanzo had asked about getting his sling off, and Angela took on the calm, but serious, expression of a doctor about to present news that was not quite ideal.

“...well….” Hanzo frowned immediately as she spoke. “You can technically take it off, but if I know you…” She poked her pen in his direction. “And I know you, you’ll injure yourself trying to use that bow of yours.”

Hanzo was almost glaring. “What do you mean injure myself? I have been in here for months….”

She nods. “You have, but….your arm didn’t heal right. The quick bursts of healing to stabilize you also healed your more minor injuries….awkwardly. We were able to fix most of them, but your arm….”

Hanzo’s grip on the cane is tight, and the handle even creaks under the pressure. “Do I have _any_ use of it?”

She began looking to her tablet, poking at things as she glanced over his file. “You have generic use, your hand, fingers, shoulder rotation, but the injury was close to your joint, your elbow, it healed it at an angle, so your movement, while technically possible, is severely limited to one or two degrees.”

He tested his arm, as if he didn’t believe her. It was already sitting at a rather sharp angle, and as he moved, he found it not budging more than she stated. 

“...my archery….?”

She tightened her lips, clutching her tablet to her chest as she took a sharp breath.

“You can’t wield a bow as you are. Not fire it at any rate. Your arm simply can’t handle pulling back the string.”

He said nothing, his left arm was shaking, the cane straining with the anger she knew he was feeling before he started walking out. Her mouth opened and closed, thinking of something to say before she settled on calmly asking “Do you not want to discuss your options?”

He stopped, his back to her as he lifted his head. “If you suggest a prosthesis, I will not….”

She tapped her tablet again. “There’s the option of resetting it….”

He whipped around, looking horrified. “Are you suggesting….break it on _purpose_ , on a chance it will heal decently?”

She swallowed, and offered a quick nod.

His jaw tightened, and she was on the verge of calling for help for fear of the wrath of the dragons being unleashed, but he said a very stern, but quiet, “No.” She knew fear when she heard it, and that word carried a lot of emotion that Hanzo was able to completely mask. He turned and left, McCree only taking a second to debate before following. He was relatively good at judging when to leave someone alone and a volatile, upset Hanzo Shimada should not be left alone.

~~

 

The call to follow proved to be a good one. McCree found Hanzo on the cliffside struggling to open a bottle of sake with his still injured arm. He looked fairly close to tossing the bottle off the cliff at this point. He made the executive decision to come over, making sure to hit his cane on the ground a little extra hard, as he’d been disappointingly forbidden from wearing his treasured boots until his leg fully healed. The loss had been mourned with a generous pour of whiskey and a half drunk, off key rendition of a classic Celine Dion song. Hanzo had rolled his eyes, but encouraged him. He knew he was in love when Hanzo said their loss was a great tragedy.

McCree shook his head free of the thoughts, Hanzo was straight, after all, right? The sound of the sake bottle firmly being set on the ground had him looking over. McCree settled next to him and laying the cane by his side.

“If you’re out here to drink away your sorrows….”

“I am not.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You do not drink sake to get drunk. One drink by the sunset soothes me, but now I am just more frustrated…”

McCree placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “...you have to take it easy for a while is all. You’ll figure it out.”

Hanzo shook his hand off his shoulder, but made no other move to separate them any further. “I should not have to ‘figure it out’. It should be _fine_ , but instead I have...this.” He takes his arm from the sling, holding up his arm bent at nearly 45 degrees. McCree calmly helped get his arm back in the sling.

“You have to take it easy, archer.”

Hanzo scoffed at the term. “....does that truly fit me anymore?”

McCree smiled, hand back on Hanzo’s shoulder. “It does! If I know you, you’ll have that bow back in your hands by the end of the month!” This time, he pulled his own hand back. He reached into his shirt, pulling a flask from a hidden pocket. He popped it open and took a drink. 

Hanzo’s nose scrunched and _god_ was that adorable. McCree was absolutely smitten. “Were we not told to refrain from alcohol?”

McCree raises an eyebrow, the corner of his lips quirked in a smirk that made Hanzo flush. “Says the man who came up here to drink alcohol.”

Hanzo couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. It was true and there was no denying it. “Do you mind sharing at least?”

The flask was handed over without protest. They spent the next few minutes in silence, passing the flask and watching the sun sink behind the ocean, spreading rose pink and tangerine hues into the sky, reflecting on the waves.

It was the most relaxed Hanzo had been and he realized, so very quickly, that the reason for it wasn’t the alcohol or the sunset. It was the cowboy by his side, cracking jokes and convincing him that impossible things were possible if you just tried hard enough.

He realized, in this moment, as he looked at McCree smiling sweetly at the sunset, the corners of his eyes crinkled in the best of ways, that he was, indeed, taken with Jesse McCree. He looked back out to the sunset, but his mind wandered with images of the cowboy’s fingers in his hair, of sitting back to chest with this man, and feeling safe in strong arms.

Three realizations were made in this moment.

One, he suddenly understood his disinterest in women.

Two, he suddenly understood confusing feelings for the boys in his classes as he grew up.

Three, he was gay and in love with Jesse McCree.

_Fuck_.

 

~~  
Despite training, and round after round of physical therapy, Hanzo couldn’t get anyone to train him on his bow. Angela labeled it as too big a risk and that, under no circumstances, was anyone to let him wield a bow without her express medical clearance. It definitely didn’t help an already strained professional relationship with the well-meaning doctor. Hanzo had found out in a roundabout way, mostly pressuring the doctor during a session about why they hadn’t trained on more movement. She tried to reiterate that it was stuck in that way, there were only the two options presented. Hanzo had scoffed, and went to train himself. She had almost ripped the bow from his hand, to Hanzo’s very large chagrin.

“You cannot handle it. I can’t stress enough the permanent damage you’ll cause if you use a bow as you are. You have to face the facts that unless you consider the options I’ve presented to you, you’ll never wield a bow again!”

These words stopped him in his tracks, leaving him frozen and staring at her. He flexed his hand that had been reaching for it, slowly lowering his arm, then his head.

“...never…”

He knew he had some thinking to do, think about his options, but as it stood, he walked passed her, saying no other words and left the room. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew he needed quiet. The cliff? He’d been spending a lot of time there lately, but given the circumstances, no one would’ve blamed him. He just wanted to sit, to think, perhaps not to. His skills with the bow was the only thing he considered a source of happiness, in a veritable sea of inner turmoil he felt he was constantly drowning in. 

Heading there, however, he found McCree already sitting in their, when did he start considering it _theirs_ , spot. The smoke from the cigarillo he smoke billowed through the air. Hanzo moved quietly to leave before the sound of the gunslinger’s voice stilled him.

“You don’t have to leave on my account, Shimada. I promise to keep quiet.”

Hanzo breathed a laugh, trying no to be heard, but he knew he had been anyway.

“And what if I enjoyed the sound of your voice more than the silence?” He spoke as he walked, well, _limped_ , to sit by him.

McCree laughed, and damn was it intoxicating. Hanzo was fucked. “Then there’s a reason for me to talk, hm?”

Sitting next to him, Hanzo made the realization too late that he was practically brushing shoulders with McCree, and he didn’t exactly object to the contact. He couldn’t bring himself to look at him, looking out over the water, listening to the water hit the rocks. The silence was broken by the sound, such a delightful sound, of McCree’s voice.

“You ever see something so breathtaking?”

Hanzo smiles softly.

“Yes.” He turns to face McCree and finds the cowboy meeting his eyes. “.....were you referring to me?”

 

McCree leaned close. He could feel his breath on his lips and it took all the control he had not to just lean forward and steal a kiss. McCree’s hand slid over his left, uninjured one. “And what if I was….?”

He wasn’t sure if he smelt alcohol, but his breath was whiskey kissed and the cloying fragrance of cigarillos. He met McCree’s eyes, leaning forward. “I..would like that, actually….”

They were close now, lips brushing, but it was intoxicating in the best of ways. He closed his eyes, wanting to breathe in McCree, to press forward and steal his breath, but the moment was stopped abruptly by Genji’s voice, boisterous and currently very grating. McCree’s head fell with a sigh, and Hanzo’s fell back before looking to the source of the sound. Genji was, to put it lightly, agitated. He’d fallen into speaking Japanese, expected Hanzo to be alone.

“ _Why get so angry with Angela when she only means to help you_?”

Hanzo didn’t care that they were so close, not as he responded in turn.

“ _I’m not angry with her, I just don’t agree with her methods._?”

“ _Consider her options! What’s wrong with having a prosthetic arm if it means being able to have your bow? _”__

__Hanzo wasn’t trying to raise his voice, but it got higher. “ _I don’t want a fake arm. It wouldn’t be the same, Genji!_ ”_ _

__Genji got just as heated. “ _You already have prosthetic legs. What’s the big deal?_ ”_ _

__Hanzo froze and Genji realized his mistake in that instant. He tried to apologize, but Hanzo barely heard it. He turned to slowly face McCree, whose expression conveyed confusion._ _

__“....you told him?”_ _

__McCree looked sincerely more confused. Hanzo pulled his hand free of McCree’s, pushing him gently back despite his state._ _

__“You told him about my legs…?”_ _

__There was a sudden realization and McCree ran a hand down his face, groaning as his hand continued behind his neck to rub along it nervously._ _

__“Not….exactly? When we were putting you in cryo...he saw me….take them off….”_ _

__Hanzo pushed himself away. “He saw you what?”_ _

__McCree went to explain himself, but stopped as Hanzo held his hand up. He rose to his feet._ _

__“I trusted you. This was one thing I asked you to keep between us. How could you?”_ _

__McCree rose to his own feet. “It would’ve hurt you, frozen you to have those things on when we froze you.”_ _

__Hanzo pressed his lips together. He had no words, trust broken and he was about to _kiss_ him. It hurt, he could feel the pitying gaze from his brother, the doting, as he’d done when they were boys, trying to be ‘the protector’ when Hanzo was the one who needed it least. Exactly all the things he was trying to prevent, wanting no attention brought to them. He turned, starting to leave._ _

__McCree held a hand up. “Can we talk about this? I really...care about you, Han--”_ _

__Hanzo stopped, his hands clenched as he turned his head just enough to be heard. “That is _your_ mistake….”_ _

__He forced his way past Genji and left. Genji turned to look at McCree, who seemed on the verge of breaking. He knew he was hurt._ _

__“....Jesse, I’m….sorry….”_ _

__McCree lowered his hand, deciding to simply sit back down, looking out over the cliff._ _

__“Nah, I should’ve kept his trust. I just didn’t want him getting hurt.”_ _

__“Like he just hurt you….”_ _

__McCree lowered his head. “...I earned that one. Getting my hopes up could only end like this.” He laughed, but it was hollow. “....he almost kissed me, you know.”_ _

__Genji was stunned enough to be silent. “....but isn’t he…?”_ _

__“Maybe. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? That ship’s definitely sailed after your outburst.”_ _

__“I’m sorry.”_ _

__McCree brought his knees up to rest his arms over them. “You got angry. I get it, but I caught something about you trying to convince him to get a prosthetic. By bringing up something I asked you to keep to yourself.”_ _

__Genji crossed his arms. He shifted his own body. “I just don’t see the problem with it. I---”_ _

__McCree didn’t move, but he sounded angry. “That’s just it, _you_ don’t. But you’re also not Hanzo. You don’t understand how he views it, but for god’s sake the least you can do is respect it. You just asked the man to just cut off an arm voluntarily.”_ _

__Genji lowered his head, his gaze to the ground. “And Hanzo’s pride…”_ _

__McCree nodded. “He doesn’t have much going for him. In case you haven’t noticed, the man practically beats himself up on the daily. When he fought, he was at peace for that moment. He had that ripped away very, very quickly.”_ _

__Genji was silent for a time, before speaking softly. “I really am sorry…”_ _

__McCree’s voice was gruff. “You can say sorry all you want. My chance is gone now. Hanzo’s the type you only get _one_. So...thanks for that….”_ _

__Genji stepped forward, clearly intending to apologize again, but was cut short by McCree’s gruff words as he lit another cigarillo._ _

__“If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone right now. You’ve honestly done enough with your prime timing.”_ _

__Not another word was uttered between them, the only sound was the crashing of the waves and the door closing behind Genji as he walked away._ _

__~~_ _

__To say the relationship between Genji and McCree was strained was an understatement. McCree tried to get over his anger, even knew it was irrational, but he had been _so close_ and it was shattered in an instant. It stung, stung deeper than he knew. Hanzo had definitely been interested, admitted it, but his parting words echoed in his head ad nauseum, leaving him in an odd daze and a feeling in his chest he wants to rip out._ _

__Genji tried to initiate conversations, but all he got in turn was a strained grunt and a glimpse of McCree’s pained eyes before the gunslinger walked away. He hadn’t tried past that._ _

__Hanzo hadn’t been seen by either since that day. There were signs of his presence, tea cups in the sink, half eaten food abandoned in an effort to run from others coming in to eat. He was usually meticulous, so the fact that it was clear he was purposely avoiding him left McCree feeling more hurt._ _

__He found himself actually grateful when his name appeared on a mission roster. It was departing soon, and it still never felt soon enough. He needed to get off base. Away from signs of things he’d lost in a split second moment. As the carrier took off, he realized what he missed most was Hanzo himself and it drove home he would never get that companionship back. He managed a glimpse of the archer on the spot they usually shared on the cliffside, too quick to see much, but it emphasized wholly it was no longer _their spot, and his heart finally shattered completely.__ _

___~~_ _ _

___Hanzo harbored a lot of regret. Genji, the clan, lately, even coming to Overwatch at all. Right now, he was beginning to regret his words to McCree. He hadn’t intended to be so harsh, and the expression he glimpsed on his face when he’d said them made him feel worse. It was a mix between fear and utter heartbreak. He felt a pang in his chest when he thought about it and grew angry that he’d gotten so close, let him in so deep, to be affected by such a breach of trust._ _ _

___Thinking upon it, in the long run, he realized that it hadn’t been broken on purpose. He hadn’t said anything, and was looking out for his well-being. He ran a hand down his face a the thought. He’d been rough for no reason, and now he was too prideful to admit it. Perhaps if he just waited long enough, McCree would come to him in time, he was sure of it. Wouldn’t he?_ _ _

___A full week passed with no word, and Hanzo completely avoiding all signs of life on the base. McCree was well-liked and he’d essentially crushed him. He wasn’t looking forward for being the catalyst for the fallout, nor the target for their scorn. He knew a mission was coming up and McCree was on it. He’d seen the ship leave, even managed to glimpse the familiar hat and red of the cowboy’s serape as it left. He’d talk to him once he returned. The mission would be a chance for both of them to blow over this, let Hanzo get his nerves back under control. He wants to pursue whatever he glimpsed on that cliff, wants to actually feel McCree’s lips on his. He wants McCree and now he has to wait just to have a chance._ _ _

___ _

___~~_ _ _

___Hanzo woke abruptly when a shrill alarm sounded through the base. The dread settled when he recognized the code being repeated by Athena overhead. He was quick to get his prosthetics on, wanting to catch someone to explain who was hurt, why the mission was ended early._ _ _

___He managed to catch Genji, who stopped when he felt Hanzo’s hand on his arm and saw the odd fear in his eyes._ _ _

___“...who is it?”_ _ _

___Genji put his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders, speaking as calmly as he could._ _ _

___“...Jesse.”_ _ _

___Hanzo almost stumbled and the reaction confused Genji but he didn’t have time to think about it when he saw determination set into Hanzo’s face and start to walk briskly towards the hangar. Hanzo had to see him, had to see how bad. He needed to make sure McCree would make it so he could kill him himself._ _ _

___He didn’t register Genji calling after him, but he hadn’t been prepared for the sight that greeted him when the ship landed. McCree was wheeled by quickly, leaving him only seconds to look him over, but time seemed to stop. His clothes were _coated_ in blood, there was an injury to his head, obscured by a hand of someone trying to stop the blood flow. His prosthetic arm was missing….more shattered, wires sparking from what was left connected. He couldn’t make out more, too many bodies around him, too many people he wanted to push his way through. The last thing he’d said to McCree was telling him his obvious love for him was a mistake...and now Hanzo may very well lose the chance to rectify it. He wasn’t aware he was crying, not until the warm wetness slid down his cheek. _ _ _

___He knew then, in this moment, his feelings for the cowboy were more than just a fleeting crush. He irrevocably loved this cowboy._ _ _

___And he was about to lose him._ _ _

___~~_ _ _

___The next few hours were touch and go, trying to stabilize a barely alive McCree and Hanzo just stood outside the doors, pacing until news reached him that he was stable and resting. He was granted permission to see him, if only for a short time. He almost chose not to, dreading seeing McCree so hurt, ruining the pristine image of McCree’s smile he harbored in his mind. He reminded himself that McCree had been there when he’d been hurt, and saw him in that terrible state. He walked in slowly, his good hand gripped the rail of the bed tightly._ _ _

___There was a bandage around his head, covering an eye that was blood-stained in patches, making Hanzo wonder if his eye was okay at all. Another was wrapped around his chest, his stumped arm. He resisted the urge to lower the blanket to see if there were more. He had tubes and wires everywhere. There seemed to be no patch of skin that didn’t have some sort of medical contraption attached to it. He reached his hand out, his fingertips brushing his cheek lightly. He frowned, looking almost angry._ _ _

___“I don’t understand why you love me. I’m not worth it.”_ _ _

___He swallowed, and a thought hit him. The memory of all the paper planes McCree had folded for him. He wasn’t sure why he kept them at the time but it was rather clear now. He looked down to the sling holding his bent arm. His jaw clenched tight as he flexed it in thought, then left to find a hopefully not too exhausted Angela Ziegler._ _ _

___He gently rapped his hand on her door frame, happy to find her in her office. It was hard to admit what he was about to say, but when she looked up, surprised at his presence, he put a hand over his sling, gripping his arm tight._ _ _

___“I have….made a decision about correcting my arm.”_ _ _

___~~_ _ _

___Despite her exhaustion, she seemed eager to help Hanzo, likely taking advantage of what she believes to be a rare moment of clarity for him. She has him lay on the bed, ready to start an IV line._ _ _

___“I’m going to put you under general anesthetic. It won’t be for long, but it’ll be less stress on your system from the pain.”_ _ _

___He shook his head._ _ _

___“No, I can handle it.”_ _ _

___She looks firm and it’s clear that she means business. Her hand squeezes his arm._ _ _

___“No, we’re not doing this right now. I don’t want Shimada pride or self loathing or any of that. I’m putting you under so I can reset that arm without worrying about your body breaking down in shock, okay?”_ _ _

___He looked to her, ready to protest, but she raised a brow and he was sure she would refuse the procedure altogether if he refused again. He finally nods, laying back and closing his eyes._ _ _

___“If you must…”_ _ _

___She pat his arm with a gloved hand._ _ _

___“There you are. Now, quick pinch and we’re good to go.”_ _ _

___He barely felt the needle at all, mostly he wasn’t focused on it. He was thinking about McCree, about his reason for wanting this now instead of waiting, and he was aware of the anesthetic only when he was feeling drowsy._ _ _

___“Count backwards from ten, alright?”_ _ _

___Hanzo remembers getting to 7 before everything got too dark and he was enveloped in a quick and surprisingly soothing darkness._ _ _

___ _

___It was hours later when he finally came to, his vision still dark, but he hissed at the pain in his arm, reflexively flinching, making it worse._ _ _

___“Easy, it’s freshly broken, but set correctly.”_ _ _

___Angela’s voice was obnoxiously calming. He wanted to be angry at the pain, but he could already feel pain medication making his head feel light and bury the pain in a dull throbbing fog._ _ _

___His vision was fuzzy, but coming enough around to make out blurry forms of Angela and Genji. The sound of Angela pulling her chair closer seemed distant, even as her hand was on his good arm, likely letting him know she was there before what he could only assume was ice was on his lips. He took it greedily, the feel of it soothing and easing his dry throat._ _ _

___“If you’re willing to stay in the medbay, I can put you in a low biotic field and have you heal in a matter of days *correctly*, or you can be free to go, but it will take quite a bit longer.”_ _ _

___Hanzo tried to speak but could only manage a grunt. She took a different approach._ _ _

___“Do you want to stay?”_ _ _

___He gave a short, slow nod._ _ _

___“Very well. Keep in mind, you can leave whenever you wish, alright?”_ _ _

___He offered another nod and gladly accepted more ice._ _ _

___Genji came over, his hands grasping onto the railing of his bed._ _ _

___“I...am proud of you….for doing something. I’m sure your skills are---”_ _ _

___Genji stopped his words as Hanzo shook his head. His voice was hoarse, a rough whisper, but he wanted to speak._ _ _

___“Not….for archery...alone….”_ _ _

___Genji cocked his head._ _ _

___“Please….bring me….paper…”_ _ _

___~~_ _ _

___Hanzo kept true to his word, staying in the medbay, on the bed, while allowing his arm to heal correctly. He passed the time mostly reading, but he kept glancing at the paper Genji had acquired. It was clear he knew what it was for, as he’d procured actual origami paper somehow. Stacks of it. Hanzo let it fuel him, keep him healing, gratefully accepting pain medication and let his arm heal how it needed._ _ _

___After a few days, Angela started helping work him through his range of motion, his muscles a bit stiff from disuse, but she helped with exercises that let Hanzo work at his own stubbornly fast pace but wouldn’t do further damage._ _ _

___Although not ideal, he soon had regained his full range of motion and got the clearance to leave, even train, so long as he kept working with her to restore it fully. He agreed, then carefully packed up his paper and headed to McCree’s bedside. He wanted to return the favor granted him._ _ _

___~~_ _ _

___McCree was slowly recovering. Progress was progress, but it hurt Hanzo’s heart knowing that McCree was in this state, got hurt thinking Hanzo wanted nothing to do with him. He sat at the table by McCree’s bedside, box of paper next to him and pulled out a stack._ _ _

___He never said a word, just began folding._ _ _

___One by one, cranes appeared. Gold and red and blue and silver. All perfectly shaped and all with a purpose. Hanzo folded them all for the same wish. For McCree to just wake up. Others came in, visited, and left Hanzo to his cranes. He was grateful. He wasn’t in the mood to speak with anyone, to interact. The only one he accepted was Angela bringing him food and water. She knew what his focus was and seemed to help keep everyone, including a very worried Genji, at bay._ _ _

___A cot was brought in at some point, set by McCree’s bed, so Hanzo could sleep if he needed. Or was forced to._ _ _

___His hope was there would be significant improvement in McCree’s condition before he reached the thousandth, but there was barely any and he was halfway through. He started a different tactic, writing notes on every tenth one. He knew McCree would likely never find and read them. The notes were quick words, with the addition of being written in Japanese. He liked the flow of the pen better, easier to flow with his arm still working back up its former strength._ _ _

____I miss our nights on the cliff._ _ _ _

____I will buy you the most expensive whiskey when you wake._ _ _ _

____I miss your voice._ _ _ _

____I miss your laugh._ _ _ _

____I miss you._ _ _ _

____Wake up soon._ _ _ _

____Please wake up._ _ _ _

___He wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing anymore. He felt foolish. Still, he folded. Still, he wished._ _ _

___Reaching the 1000th, he folded the last one slowly. He made it the biggest, and made sure it felt like McCree. Red with gold foil in geometric patterns. It reminded him of McCree’s serape. He was careful with his hands. It had to be perfect. No mistakes._ _ _

___He finally rested his sore hands, looking at the cranes around the room. Someone, or likely multiple, had started lacing them about the room, hanging some from the ceiling, lined them on the shelves, the windowsill, a few chained in a way that only Genji would know how Hanzo wanted, making stacks of cranes that hung in groups._ _ _

___Hanzo was silent as he lifted the final one, held it close to his chest and closed his eyes as he made a silent wish. McCree can hate him all he wants, despise him, but he just wanted him to wake, to _live_._ _ _

___The wish was made and he stood carefully, turning to gently set the crane onto McCree’s chest, over his heart. He watched it rise and fall with McCree’s breath, taking a tiny bit of solace in the fact that it could. He took McCree’s hand and held it lightly. It was odd not to feel it squeeze back, not now. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of it, speaking with a voice hoarse with days of disuse._ _ _

___“You are needed, cowboy. I pray you wake soon.”_ _ _

_____He lay his hand back down gently, and left the room in a solemn mood._  
~~  
The walk back to his room felt long and his legs felt heavy. He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to be alone with the thoughts in his head, the dreadful ones that teased at McCree’s health failing, to waking up to news of his passing. He made a turn, down a path that he’d been taken through once during a tour his brother insisted on dragging him through. 

___ _

___It was a rarely used path, opened up into a greenhouse-like space. A garden cultivated on a usually rocky terrain, with very little that can grow on it. It seemed kept by the odd, pacifist Bastion unit that somehow, one way or another, ended up in Overwatch’s hands to keep it on their side. Him? Her? It seemed so improper. Them?_ _ _

___Hanzo shook the debate from his head. Neutral would be best. He came here for a different purpose. He hoped to find Genji in a portion of the garden that grew the lone tree. It was clearly here before the Bastion unit, given its size. It looked to be a willow, with curtainish leaves making a sanctuary beneath its branches. Genji admitted to using this spot to meditate, and it was logically plausible that Hanzo find him there now._ _ _

___He was careful on his approach, quiet, but he knew Genji would hear him. He stopped just beyond the leaves, barely into the peaceful shade of solitude. The silence was broken by Genji’s voice._ _ _

___“...do you wish to join me, brother?”_ _ _

___Hanzo stepped forward._ _ _

___“If you don’t mind…”_ _ _

___Genji’s response was patting the ground at his side, a silent invitation to join. Hanzo took his place, hands on his knees as he closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. He knew he was fidgeting a bit, but he did his best to school his actions._ _ _

___“Your thoughts are loud, Hanzo…”_ _ _

___“Apologies…”_ _ _

___There was a huffing laugh from Genji’s direction._ _ _

___“No clever words? No ‘then stop listening’?”_ _ _

___Hanzo frowned. “I have a lot on my mind. I have no time for sarcasm.”_ _ _

___Genji sighed, lowering his head._ _ _

___“It’s about McCree, isn’t it?”_ _ _

___Hanzo pressed his lips together but said nothing._ _ _

___“Everyone saw you with the cranes. Your silence speaks volumes.”_ _ _

___Hanzo opened his eyes. Any facade of actually meditating was summarily ruined now. Genji seemed to have the same thought, as Hanzo could see him looking at him from the corner of his eye._ _ _

___“You care a lot for him. Close friends, hm?”_ _ _

___Hanzo nodded. “I suppose.”_ _ _

___Genji laughed, leaning back on his hands. “You know, he cares for you as something more.”_ _ _

___Hanzo nods. “I am very aware.”_ _ _

___Genji stilled. “You know?”_ _ _

___Hanzo nodded. “We….almost kissed, Genji. I hope it was to mean something.”_ _ _

___“...you...almost kissed?”_ _ _

___“Yes.”_ _ _

___“You almost kissed _another man_?”_ _ _

___“Yes, stay with me. I grow tired of repeating myself.”_ _ _

___Genji leaned forward, a questioning quirk of his head. “Aren’t you straight?”_ _ _

___Hanzo couldn’t help but balk a laugh. He looked to Genji fully, a smirk on his face._ _ _

___“I am very gay, Genji.”_ _ _

___Genji blinked, smacking a hand to his forehead….at least the forehead of his visor._ _ _

___“I told him you weren’t.”_ _ _

___Hanzo narrowed his eyes. “You told him what?”_ _ _

___“That you were straight.”_ _ _

___“And you would know… _how_ exactly?”_ _ _

___“I don’t know. I saw you with a lot of women.”_ _ _

___Hanzo turned to put his hands on Genji’s shoulders. “Genji, those were suitors thrust upon me. I never _liked_ them.”_ _ _

___Genji’s head fell back. “Fuuuuck. Hanzo, he didn’t say anything because I told him you were straight. I’m the _worst_.”_ _ _

___Hanzo let his hands fall before nodding. “Yes, you are. But that’s not the point. Even I wasn’t fully sure until I thought about it, about my feelings for Je---McCree.”_ _ _

___“You mean...you like him back?”_ _ _

___Hanzo turns slowly, putting his hands together and taking a deep breath before pointing them toward Genji. “We. almost. Kissed.”_ _ _

___Genji put his hands over Hanzo’s. “I’m so happy, Hanzo. I now have _proof_ you have a heart.”_ _ _

___Hanzo shook his hands free, standing and dusting himself off. “Well, don’t go spreading it around. I have a reputation to uphold.”_ _ _

___The laugh between them was wholly needed and he made sure, when Genji stood, to place a hand on his shoulder and speak sincerely._ _ _

___“Thank you….”_ _ _

___Genji wasn’t fully sure what he was being thanked _for_ , but he never let a kindness from Hanzo be questioned. Not a sincere one._ _ _

___“Of course.”_ _ _

___~~_ _ _

___With the loss of the cranes to occupy his time, Hanzo worked with Angela to get his archery back in order. He started begrudgingly on a training bow, but moved quickly up to being able to practice with Storm Bow. His aim was slightly off still, but he was able to let go and focus on getting better._ _ _

___He was able to practice solo now, and finally free to try moving targets. He needed to get back into shape. It helped distract him from the lack of news on McCree. He got tidbits, improved breathing, healing wounds, but nothing that said he was going to wake anytime soon. Months had passed and Hanzo was nearly at his old capacity. His aim nearly back to impeccable and back to being nimble on his feet. He ran training simulations over and over and nearly fully isolated himself. It may not be a healthy distraction, mentally, but it suited him. He needed the release or he was sure to go stir crazy._ _ _

___He wasn’t fond of the large, jagged scar that marred his chest. It made him self conscious enough to start wearing a sleeveless tactical shirt under his typical kyudo gi to hide it. He could hear McCree’s voice in his head, making comments about hiding away, that he should be proud to have survived it._ _ _

___The thought stilled him. It was hard to keep going with the faint memory of McCree’s hand on his, the way his lips felt in that moment. He wanted more. To hold McCree, to be held. Feel McCree’s lips on his, to shove him against the nearest wall and steal a selfish kiss for his own. He leaned against the wall, sliding down to hug his knees to his chest. He rested his head on them and took some deep, steadying breaths, but the tears still came despite his own desires to hold them back._ _ _

___He barely noticed the door opening, but it was nothing unusual. It was a public training area. He would’ve paid them no mind if not for the words they, no _Genji_ specifically, spoke._ _ _

___“He’s awake, Hanzo.”_ _ _

___His head bolted up, giving his brother the most incredulous look, but Genji was shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Excited. Hanzo’s eyes widened._ _ _

___“.....he’s awake?!”_ _ _

___He was already on his feet before Genji could confirm. He wasn’t sure how fast he was running, but Genji had to gain speed to catch up. He was smiling, excited to see those beautiful eyes before a thought hit him like a punch to the temple._ _ _

____Why am I doing this? He likely hates me now._ _ _ _

___It made him slow._ _ _

____He has every right to._ _ _ _

___He stopped._ _ _

____I told him his love was a mistake._ _ _ _

___He stared at the medbay doors. For all the effort he put into getting here, they might as well be a steel wall. He couldn’t bring himself to enter._ _ _

____A mistake._ _ _ _

___Genji stopped as he was ready to open them when he noticed Hanzo was no longer moving. The stunned, regretful expression on Hanzo’s face gave him pause and he turned. He clapped his hands firmly onto Hanzo’s shoulders, resulting in Hanzo refocusing on him._ _ _

___“Whatever happened in the past is nothing now. He doesn’t hate you. I think he actually still cares far too much for you. Get in there.”_ _ _

___Hanzo was grateful for the words. He took a deep breath and Genji left him to open the doors._ _ _

___Hanzo greeted McCree with a relieved smile._ _ _

___“It’s good to see you awake.”_ _ _

___McCree didn’t seem nearly as happy, his expression cold and pain in his eyes._ _ _

___“What are you doing here?”_ _ _

___Hanzo swore he felt his stomach drop. McCree’s voice was hoarse, barely audible, but he spoke with clear intent._ _ _

___“I just wanted….”_ _ _

___McCree looked away. Something about avoiding Hanzo’s gaze made the archer’s chest tighten._ _ _

___“I don’t want to see you.”_ _ _

___Hanzo took a step back._ _ _

___“I...don’t…”_ _ _

___“Of course you don’t. It was a mistake, right?”_ _ _

___The words cut deep. He brought a hand to his chest. It hurt far worse to hear them thrown back at him. He deserved this. He swallowed and offered a shallow bow._ _ _

___“I’m glad to see you’re well. I promise you will never see me again.”_ _ _

___He turned on his heel and left rather quickly._ _ _

___Genji was simply staring at McCree. It may not be seen, but it was obvious. McCree looked to him._ _ _

___“What?”_ _ _

___Genji threw his arms out before gesturing to the door. “What the fucking hell was that?”_ _ _

___McCree sighed, letting the mask fall. He just looked hurt._ _ _

___“You heard what he said to me. I just had a lot of time to think on it. I figured if I can push him away, it’ll hurt less--”_ _ _

___“The man spent a week folding cranes for you, almost non stop, and that’s what the fuck your reaction is?”_ _ _

___McCree looks to the ceiling, around at the cranes. “....Hanzo...did this?”_ _ _

___Genji stepped forward, pulling a particular stack from where they hung on the ceiling. He put these particular ones together on purpose. He threw them to McCree’s lap. “He made sure to write on these.”_ _ _

___The reluctance to unfold such intricate work was clear in how he held it, but he unfolded it all the same. “...Genji, these are in Japanese…”_ _ _

___Genji roughly started to unfold them, reading them McCree as he threw the unfolded cranes back at him. “I miss you. I want to hear more stories. Wake up. Please wake up.” He picked up another, blue and gold, with mon of the Shimada printed on the paper. This was purposeful. He turned it and held it to McCree’s face. “I love you.” He flicked it at him. “He’s been a mess since you came back, so thanks a lot for ruining that.”_ _ _

___“Shit.”_ _ _

___“You fucked up, Jesse McCree. Fix it.”_ _ _

___~~_ _ _

___Genji went to Hanzo’s room and found his brother packing. It wasn’t much but his movements were slow. Hanzo was hurting greatly and he knew it._ _ _

___“What are you doing?”_ _ _

___“I can’t stay here. Not with him.”_ _ _

___There was little hesitation from Genji as he stepped inside, closing the lid on Hanzo’s suitcase and keeping his hand there. When he looked to Hanzo’s face, he saw eyes red from tears and streaks down his face that he couldn’t see._ _ _

___“I understand, I do, but you can’t make hasty decisions.”_ _ _

___“Genji, don’t do this. Don’t make me do this.”_ _ _

___He wasn’t sure where the compulsion came from, but he pulled Hanzo to him, a firm hug that Hanzo only resisted for a moment before he gave in. Hanzo couldn’t hold back anymore, he’d opened his heart for once in his life and had it ripped out in an instant. Genji felt him shake with sobs before he heard it. He quietly asked Athena to close the door and put the room on do not disturb. Hanzo needed this release, and didn’t need anyone else to know._ _ _

___After time had passed and Hanzo stilled, Genji spoke softly._ _ _

___“...tell you what. You and I both can leave this place behind.”_ _ _

___Hanzo made a small sound of protest._ _ _

___“We’re going to have to go into hiding because I’m going to kill him.”_ _ _

___Hanzo tried hard not to laugh at it, but the crude humor got him. He pulled away, wiping his eyes as he sank to sit on the bed. His laugh faded quickly and he frowned, staring at the floor._ _ _

___“I’m not sure I can stay. That….his words hurt too much and I just….I still want to just...hug him. He doesn’t want me around, he told me to leave, and I still...love him.”_ _ _

___Genji moves to lean against a wall. He knows the signs of ‘Hanzo needs space now’._ _ _

___“Make me a deal. Stay. See if nothing truly changes, because sometimes pain makes a man do stupid things.”_ _ _

___Hanzo laughs, but it doesn’t sound sincere. The silence drags on for some time, and Genji’s ready to leave him to think on it before Hanzo sighs._ _ _

___“Okay….for _you_ , I will make this bargain….but I get to leave if it becomes...overwhelming.”_ _ _

___Genji puts his hands up. “I promise not to stop you again, so long as you give it a couple weeks at least.”_ _ _

___Hanzo looks to him, clearly ready to protest before he nods.  
“Deal.”_ _ _

___~~_ _ _

___There wasn’t any hiding the fact that Hanzo left his things packed. He made no effort to see McCree, and McCree spent his time convinced he’d ruined everything. Genji was ready to shove them in a room together and make them duke it out._ _ _

___Hanzo threw himself into training, getting well enough at it that they put him back on mission rosters. A long one came up. Recon. It would take at least a month and participation was voluntary so long as at least four people did. Hanzo put his name on it. His skills and background had him on the mission immediately. Genji approved. It got him out, away, let him think without the looming presence of McCree leaving him with one foot out the door. Perhaps, when he got back, he’d have more rational thinking._ _ _

___McCree took it as a sign he wasn’t wanted. He recovered quickly, given that most of his wounds healed during his coma, and he was back on his feet in a couple weeks of Hanzo being gone. Genji assumed he would be training, but a week after, he discovered McCree putting his affairs in order._ _ _

___He was leaving._ _ _

___The confrontation would’ve been volatile if Genji had his way, ready to punch an injured man, consequences be damned, but Angela knew him enough to talk him into a gentler approach._ _ _

___“You got Hanzo Shimada to stay. You can get Jesse McCree to.”_ _ _

___Damn that woman._ _ _

___He approached him in the training area, McCree getting used to a new prosthetic arm._ _ _

___“....so...you’re leaving.”_ _ _

___McCree didn’t even look at him. “Yep.”_ _ _

___“Just like that.”_ _ _

___“Just like that.”_ _ _

___Genji sighed, crossing his arms. “Not one chance?”_ _ _

___“I fucked up, Genji. I fucked up a second chance.”_ _ _

___“Third time’s a charm?”_ _ _

___“Bullshit.”_ _ _

___“He cried on my shoulder.”_ _ _

___That *definitely* got McCree’s attention. He lowered his gun and turned to fully face Genji. “He *what*?”_ _ _

___“Hanzo Shimada, my brother, Mr Stick-up-his-ass, sobbed into my shoulder and was literally leaving because you said you didn’t want to see him again.”_ _ _

___The cowboy had the audacity to raise a questioning eyebrow._ _ _

___“Yeah, I wouldn’t believe me either.”_ _ _

___McCree sighed, shifting his weight as he holstered Peacekeeper. “I’ll stay. Until he comes back, I’ll stay. We can say goodbye all proper. That alright with you?”_ _ _

___Genji wasn’t happy with the wording but he acquiesced in the end. “Fine.”_ _ _

___McCree tipped his hat to Genji and walked out of the room. Genji shook his head and turned it skyward._ _ _

___“I swear I’ll kill them both. I’ll do it. No regrets.” He wasn’t sure who he was swearing to, but in the moment, he meant them on some level. He wanted out of this. Let them act like spoiled children at this point. He did all he could short of that idea of shoving them into a small room. The thought reminded him of that old game he learned from McCree. Seven minutes in heaven? Hell, maybe. With these two._ _ _

___He shook his head, and shut off the lights as he, too, left the training grounds._ _ _

___~~_ _ _

___Hanzo’s mission dragged late, adding three more weeks to the recon. They found a great lead and they wanted to follow it, giving them great info on key Talon members and one of their larger bases. It was crucial intel and they planned to carry on as long as they could milk it._ _ _

___The extended time put stress on McCree. He spent more and more time sitting on the cliff, smoking with a flask of whiskey. He never got drunk, not anymore, and Genji swore at least on two occasions he had sake. It was clear he missed Hanzo to a degree, and his anger and frustrations were melting away into simple hurt. He’d pushed Hanzo away when he only wanted to greet a man he thought wouldn’t make it. A man, as Genji put it, that he loved. McCree scoffed at the the thought and tossed put his cigarillo out with a force that ground it down more than anything._ _ _

___“Fuck love. What’s the point?”_ _ _

___He was in this spot when he noticed the dropship flying in. He thought seriously about going to greet it, but he figured if he was wanted, the archer would likely find him. If not, well, at least he could say goodbye with some dignity._ _ _

___It was nearly an hour after landing that he heard the door open. He knew it was Hanzo by the purposeful sound of prosthetic feet._ _ _

___“Is this you coming to say goodbye?” He kept his back to him. He was too weak. He’d stay just to keep looking into Hanzo’s fucking perfect eyes._ _ _

___Hanzo shifted. “Goodbye?”_ _ _

___Well, fuck. He wasn’t expecting to hear *hurt* in Hanzo’s voice. “I’m leaving Overwatch. I got hurt because I was distracted. It lead to nearly my whole team getting killed.” He set the whiskey he’d been drinking down. “If you’re going to just stand in silence, you might as well go away, Shimada. My heart can’t take losing another chance.”_ _ _

___The silence carried on and McCree rose to his feet. Well, that was that, so be it. He turned to face him and was met with Hanzo running at him. Not a slow run that he could spend a moment preparing for, it was a brisk, desperate run that left him taking the full force of the wall of pure muscle that called itself Hanzo Shimada._ _ _

___Hanzo had his arms around him, tight and pulling on his shirt. McCree knew this, the way Hanzo was pressed into him, the grip he had. Desperation. He wasn’t sure what to do for a time before he reciprocated, his arms coming around Hanzo just as tightly. It felt like hours passed as they stood there, silent and just trying to stay grounded, to really feel that this was _actually_ happening before Hanzo spoke uncharacteristically softly._ _ _

___“....if you leave, let me follow….”_ _ _

___McCree was sure his heart would burst and he couldn’t help but press a firm kiss to the top of Hanzo’s head._ _ _

___“...just you and me against the world, eh, Hanzo…?”_ _ _

___There was a world of gratitude when Hanzo didn’t correct him using his name. It seemed Hanzo had the same idea._ _ _

___“I’ve come to realize...I love you dearly, Jesse. I apologize for ever calling it a mistake…”_ _ _

___McCree clicked his tongue and rocked gently with the archer. “None of that now. Forget the past. We were assholes, the both of us. We have now.”_ _ _

___Hanzo stepped back to look up at him and fucking hell, his eyes are beautiful. McCree took his face between his hands._ _ _

___“I love you, Hanzo. I have for a long time and that never stopped. So let’s take what we have and run with it. Come with me. No more missions, not right now. Take time for _us_.”_ _ _

___Hanzo put his hand over McCree’s, nodding just enough to get his point across without dislodging those warm hands on his face._ _ _

___“Just us.”_ _ _

___McCree dared to lean forward and Hanzo could feel his breath against his lips, the same whiskey-kissed breath and cloying cigarillo he remembered. It left him impatient and he surged forward to close the distance._ _ _

___The kiss wasn’t storybook. There were no fireworks, and it wasn’t pristine and perfect, but it was just right for them. An awkward mess of lips and teeth until they figured it out. He wrapped his arms around McCree’s neck and McCree’s fell to his hips. The world faded around them and it left a feeling of blissful isolation, only the two of them and finally, _finally_ sharing a much needed kiss._ _ _

___They were breathless when they parted. Their foreheads touched and their bodies pressed together like they were trying hard to become one solid being. Hanzo eventually tucked his head into McCree’s neck and heard the soft, honeyed voice of the cowboy in his ear._ _ _

___“I love you, Hanzo. Never forget that.”_ _ _

___~~_ _ _

___The beach at sunset was sickeningly romantic, and yet McCree couldn’t help but love it. He had to admit it was odd seeing his archer in such casual clothes, a button up shirt he was wasn’t quite convinced _wasn’t_ stolen from his own wardrobe and tight jeans that framed Hanzo’s legs, and ass, in the best of ways. He still wore that ribbon in his hair, and that’s one fragment of tradition he still carried. He wore the kyudo gi when they would train or, god forbid, fight, but he'd taken to more casual wear lately. Obviously, he had no qualms about digging into McCree's own wardrobe. He still had t-shirts go missing only to return stretched oddly along the chest that he had yet to confront his archer about. The pinkish hues framed Hanzo with a near ethereal halo around his form and McCree had to take a moment to thank whatever powers that be for sending him this literal angel walking the Earth. _ _ _

___He approached Hanzo slowly, looking out over the calm waters as he settled at his side. He stuck his hands through his beltloops. He took a moment to glance at Hanzo, a fond smile on his face, before looking back over the water and heaving a deep breath._ _ _

___“Do you ever miss it?”_ _ _

___Hanzo barely moved, his head only tilting just so, a sign that he’d heard McCree. “Hm?”_ _ _

___“Overwatch. The missions. I know we help them on occasion, but I mean the constant threat of something looming over. Do you ever miss it?”_ _ _

___There’s a momentary hesitation, but Hanzo shakes his head. “No. I can’t say that I do.”_ _ _

___McCree smiled, his hand moving in a way that bumped Hanzo’s. “Good. I wouldn’t trade this for any of it. Least of all you.”_ _ _

___Hanzo presses back, a soft gesture that they’ve grown accustomed to, affirming they’re both there, this is real. Hanzo slowly threads a finger around McCree’s. “You’re all I need now. So long as I have you, that life is behind us.”_ _ _

___They turned to face each other and the sunlight glinted off a band of silver on Hanzo’s left hand. He brings it up to McCree’s shoulder, admiring it before meeting the gunslinger’s eyes with a smirk._ _ _

___“Should we at least tell Genji?”_ _ _

___McCree put his hands on Hanzo’s hips and pulled him a bit closer._ _ _

___“Nah, he can find out when he gets the wedding invite.”_ _ _

___Hanzo presses his face into McCree’s chest to stifle a laugh before looking back up to him._ _ _

___“You are an incorrigible man, Jesse McCree.”_ _ _

___McCree smirks. “And you love me.”_ _ _

___Hanzo’s hands move to McCree’s face. He runs his thumbs lightly along the skin of McCree’s cheeks. He took a moment to look into his eyes, meeting his gaze with a soft fondness reserved purely for his cowboy._ _ _

___“That I do, my cowboy.”_ _ _

___He leans in, kissing the other softly, a gentle thing that fits the sickeningly romantic mood the sunset presents. It’s in this moment, as their arms wrap around each other, and they press close that they both come to one, cohesive conclusion._ _ _

___They were both stubborn idiots to deny themselves this happiness, and they wouldn’t have each other any other way._ _ _


End file.
